


The Edge Of Tonight

by DrowningInStarlight



Category: EOS 10 (Podcast)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 07:39:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15601518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrowningInStarlight/pseuds/DrowningInStarlight
Summary: Once upon a time he would have dealt with the wound himself, prayed to all the gods he didn't believe in that it wouldn't get infected, and carry on with what passed as his life, but not any more. Now he had a certain pink haired doctor to bother instead.Including: long days,1001 Tips From An Alleged Terrorist,and a kiss.





	The Edge Of Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> I binge listened EOS 10 this week, and absolutely fell in love with it. There isn't enough fic out there, so here's my contribution!

Akmazian was having a good day. 

Of course, he wasn't technically awake yet, but it still counted. He was curled up in his nest of blankets in the darkest corner of the cargo bay, dozing peacefully as the day cycle ended and artificial night descended upon the station. There was food in storage, so he knew where his next meal was coming from, and he had a new pack of ammo ready for his blaster. And, of course, some time to catch up on sleep-- he hadn't been able to shake the sleep deprivation since becoming a wanted terrorist. 

Everything was great-- then the bomb went off, and he woke up. Things went downhill from there. 

 

_____

 

One day, he wanted to publish a book. _1001 Tips From An Alleged Terrorist,_ he might call it, or _How To Survive When Everyone Wrongly Wants You Dead (Hint: Fuck Those Guys)_ , he hadn't decided yet. Either way the first tip would say, in bold and underlined about six times in an increasingly shaky hand, _DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, LET AN ENEMY BLOW UP YOUR BASE WHILE YOU ARE STILL IN IT._ Seriously, kiddos, do not try it. Really ruins your damn morning. 

 

_____

 

He was on his feet before his eyes were properly open, blaster in his hand before his brain had time to process the chaos around him. The explosion-- he mentally ran through the list of people he'd pissed off recently who had access to explosives, and swiftly realised it could be any of thousands. He was just lucky that whoever set the bomb hadn't known about his hidey-hole of a bedroom. Second paragraph in _1001 Tips From An Alleged Terrorist,_ never sleep in plain sight, or anywhere in range of plain sight. 

"Akmazian, show yourself, you lying snake!" a sharp, nasal voice shouted, echoing off the metal walls. 

He recognised the voice as belonging to a gent that had bought a number of highly illegal items off him just last week. His good mood, already flagging, evaporated completely. This was going to be a long day. Akmazian _hated_ long days. 

 

_____

 

The meeting with his disgruntled (and fully armed) customer went about well as expected-- that is to say, it all went to hell in a handcart. Two and a half hours later, a well aimed blaster shot finally stopped the guy's complaints, but not before he thoroughly stabbed Akmazian in the shoulder. Cursing and bleeding, blaster still smoking in his other hand, Akmazian stumbled towards the exit of the cargo bay. He needed stitches, and some painkillers wouldn't go amiss. 

Once upon a time he would have dealt with the wound himself, prayed to all the gods he didn't believe in that it wouldn't get infected, and carry on with what passed as his life, but not any more. Now he had a certain pink haired doctor to bother instead. 

Well, _had_ is a strong word. He _knew_ a pink haired doctor. Where there many pink haired doctors around? Did they have a club? Could he join? Okay, maybe he needed to move a _little_ faster, the blood loss was getting to him already. Or perhaps his brain just kinda stopped functioning around Ryan Dalias. 

 

He reached the door to Ryan's quarters, and hesitated. Third paragraph: _Never hesitate._ The next moment the door opened, and Ryan himself stuck his head out. If Akmazian had just gone in, he could have preserved his dangerous and mysterious character, but as it was he gave a pathetically grateful sigh of relief. 

"Oh fuck," Ryan said. "Akmaz-- is that blood?" 

"Bright as always, Doc," Akmazian managed before stumbling forwards. Damn it, who put that doorframe there? Now his head hurt too. 

"What the hell happened?"

"Met an old friend. Left me a stab would to remember him by, an' I gave him a blaster bolt in return." He gestured with said blaster.

"I don't think I want to know," Ryan said. "Stop waving that thing around, and come in, now." 

He was using his doctor's voice, a tone that brooked no argument. Akmazian wouldn't have fought him anyway. 

Ryan's quarters had a sort of organised chaos to them. There were things strewn about everywhere, but they all gave the impression of being put there for a reason, even if that reason was incomprehensible to everyone but Ryan. Akmazian sank down on the bed like one more carefully placed possession. 

"First, take these," Ryan said, handing him a handful of tablets. "Then tell me all the relevant bits of the story-- try to skip the illegal stuff. I can't handle more second hand guilt today." 

"Second hand guilt?" Akmazian asked, swallowing the pills. 

"Jane," Ryan said ruefully, fumbling for a medkit. "She tells me these stories, and the stuff that happens is _so bad_ and she's _so shameless,_ I feel compelled to be guilty on her behalf. Anyway, tell me what happened." 

"Got stabbed," Akmazian repeated. "An' it hurts like a motherfucker."

"It would be weird if it didn't," Ryan said. "And it's about to hurt more."

"Ain't you doctors supposed to say this won't hurt a bit?" 

"Sure, and I'll give you a sticker once I'm done," Ryan said, rolling his eyes. "Now, hold still."

 

_____ 

 

It took a while for Akmazian's thoughts to be anything other than _FUCKING OW!_ He thought he might have been unconscious for a bit, because when he came to he was lying in Ryan's bed with a blanket awkwardly draped over him. The doctor in question was nowhere to be seen, but there were noises from the next room, a tap running and steady footsteps moving back and forth.

It felt oddly comfortable. Unfamiliar, but still somehow safe. Akmazian decided he hated it. It wasn't right, it wasn't. Ryan should have turned him away at the door, or looked afraid at the blaster in his hand, or done his duty as doctor then kicked him out. He'd done none of those things, and Akmazian kept coming back to the blanket Ryan had put on him, a gesture of Ryan's signature awkward kindness.

But even though Ryan knew Akmazian wasn't the terrorist the galaxy said he was, that didn't mean he was a normal person-- a _safe_ person. Ryan should have turned him away at the door, he _should_ have. The blanket was pale blue, and fuzzy. He pushed it off himself sharply, and stood up. 

Ryan came back into the room, carrying the medkit. "You're awake!" he said. 

"How long was I out?" Akmazian asked. His voice was unexpectedly hoarse. 

"A few hours," Ryan said. "How are you feeling?" 

"Physically, or emotionally? 'Cause this has _not_ been a good day, I'm telling ya." 

"Cut the bullshit, Akmazian," Ryan told him. "I'm trying to help you." 

He stood just in front of Akmazian, and touched the bandages on his shoulder. Akmazian flinched, and Ryan put a soothing hand on his chest while examining the dressing critically. The whole process was clearly muscle memory at this point, Ryan didn't even have to think about how to change a bandage, he'd done it so often. It only seemed to register what he was doing when Akmazian's breathing changed involuntarily under his palm. Then he looked up at Akmazian, and damn if that doctor didn't have the most beautiful eyes Akmazian had ever seen. 

"You okay?" he asked. 

Akmazian nodded. He took a deep breath, and started to say something-- a joke, one of the witty lines he swore he didn't spend his spare time thinking up-- but ended up saying something else instead. "Why aren't you afraid of me, Doctor Dalias?"

Ryan shrugged. "Why should I be?" 

"Alleged terrorist, an' all." 

"But you didn't do it," Ryan said logically. "You were framed. We both know that." They were standing so close Akmazian could see Ryan's eyelashes. 

"So maybe I didn't destroy a system," Akmazian said. "That don't mean I'm innocent. I've killed people, I've killed _a lot_ of people. You know that. I turn up outside your place covered in blood and carrying a blaster. Why aren't you afraid of me, Ryan?" 

"I've never been afraid of you," Ryan said. He maintained his steady gaze, his head tilted back just a tiny bit. Akmazian only had an inch or two at best on Ryan, but now he made full use of that height advantage, drawing himself up as tall as he could, crowding into Ryan's space. 

"Maybe you should be," he said quietly. "It'd be safer for you if you were." 

"I'm not afraid of you," Ryan insisted. "And nothing you can do will suddenly make me be, either, so you can stop trying to prove that I'm secretly terrified. Yes, I know what you're doing." 

Akmazian took a step back in defeat, but Ryan chased the contact. "I trust you," he said. 

He dipped his head and kissed Ryan impulsively. Paragraph four of his book: _Never listen to attractive doctors saying they trust you._

Then Ryan put his arm around his waist, and he changed his mind: _Always listen to attractive doctors saying they trust you, it's unbelievably sexy._ Fuck, he wished his shoulder wasn't on fire right now, so he could kiss Ryan without wincing every three seconds. 

"I'm not afraid of you," Ryan said again. 

"You know what, darlin'," Akmazian said. "I think I believe you."

**Author's Note:**

> I just,, Rymazian,,
> 
>  
> 
> Comments are always appreciated! I love every one, long or short :D


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